My earliest feelings for my
grandfather, V. M. Radhakrishnan were similar to the purported
reaction of the Afghans when Uncle Sam came knocking on their doors -
Shock and Awe! I had always heard more about him than what I'd seen.
I guess that only added to the enigma. I'd heard tales of tyranny and
indifference; of raging tempers and acts of rage; of him being a
stickler for order and of him meting out punishments for any act of
even perceived disobedience.
I remember gawking at this man of
immense presence (he towered at close to 6'2" at one time). I
remember standing behind the curtains waiting for him to finish off his dosa so
that I can promptly bring one more or replenish his glass of 'tootam'
(which meant water, in his archaic Tamil). I remember talking to him
in spatterings of English and him being impressed with it. I remember
him sharing anecdotes from his college days, and of him reciting a
poem that he must've read in the 1940s. I remember walking along with
him and
trying to match his giant and brisk strides with my tiny and
inconsequential legs. I remember him giving me advises on what to do
with my future; how I should keep notes of all the articles I read in
the papers and magazines for future reference and how I should
seriously try giving the IAS examination so that he can come stay at
the collector's bungalow. In 2001, he had asked me to write a letter
to him stating what I wanted to do after my standard 10 board exams.
With trepidation, I carefully chose my words and wrote him a letter
to the best of my abilities. I'll never forget how happy he was to
see a precocious 15 year old kid use the term 'intrigue' in the right
context. He was the first one to plant a seed in my brain that I
should pursue humanities. Although he wanted me to pursue English
Literature, I ended up doing a BA in Psychology. But I always knew
that he was proud of me and saw great potential in me. Whether I
lived up to his expectation is something that I'd never know.
Pride came naturally to him. He was a
proud and confident man. Proud of his memory, his knowledge and his
ability to work in the most challenging circumstances. I distinctly
remember him telling me once "I would never want anyone to
respect me for my age. I want to command respect for my knowledge."
He was also someone who always planned and stayed ahead of time. When
my grandmother died, he went cold turkey from two packets of cigarettes a day to
zero! He did this because he knew that if he continued to
smoke then his body would give in faster and he'd end up becoming
dependent on his children. Dependency is something that he loathed
all his life.
With time, I grew up. But I never
saw him grow old. Even at 80, he was still someone who was
independent and living life on his own terms. I never saw him asking
me to press his aching legs after a long day at work. In fact, I
hardly remember seeing any emotion coming from him. It was as if
nothing shook or troubled him. Even in his 80s, he was still walking
with his long strides.
But time caught up with him eventually... and it got its sweet revenge. One day his legs finally stopped following his brain's orders and gave in. He never quite recovered from there. In February 2012, I and my family came to know that he was suffering from Parkinson's disease and that he might have been suffering from it for quite some time. But no one came to know as he never shared such things with anyone. Suddenly, we realised that all those instances where he used to ask the same question again and again might not have been because he couldn't hear, it could have been because he couldn't comprehend.
But time caught up with him eventually... and it got its sweet revenge. One day his legs finally stopped following his brain's orders and gave in. He never quite recovered from there. In February 2012, I and my family came to know that he was suffering from Parkinson's disease and that he might have been suffering from it for quite some time. But no one came to know as he never shared such things with anyone. Suddenly, we realised that all those instances where he used to ask the same question again and again might not have been because he couldn't hear, it could have been because he couldn't comprehend.
When he was brought to stay with us in
June 2012, he was a shadow of his former self. Dependent on a
caretaker for even his basic necessities, he was bed-ridden, repentant and
regressive. With Parkinson's came Dementia and with Dementia came his
irrational fear that people around him were there to rob him and harm him.
Initially, I failed to recognize him. Then I realised that the V. M.
Radhakrishnan I knew had long ceased to exist and the person lying there was just a body without soul; waiting for destiny to roll
its dice.. one last time. I guess in the game of life, the house
always wins.
I know that time will catch up with me
as well. Some years from now, I might not remember him the way I
remember him now. This post is just my humble effort to record my memory,
for posterity.
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Addendum: Shri. V. M. Radhakrishnan passed away at 5 am on January 06, 2013. He never recovered from Parkinson's to actually read this post that was written for him. All my life, I've seen him know everything that is worth knowing; so I firmly believe that he'd know about this post as well.
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Addendum: Shri. V. M. Radhakrishnan passed away at 5 am on January 06, 2013. He never recovered from Parkinson's to actually read this post that was written for him. All my life, I've seen him know everything that is worth knowing; so I firmly believe that he'd know about this post as well.
